


Merry and Bright

by Jaina (effervescible)



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Background Adventure Family, Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Mentions of sexual activity, Naked Santa Hat Time, relationship progression, tipsy sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 11:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8977135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/effervescible/pseuds/Jaina
Summary: Elena Fisher is more or less a Christmas person. Nathan Drake is more or less a mystery. Working out holiday traditions, one year at a time.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ancalime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ancalime/gifts).



If she had to classify herself one way or the other, Elena would call herself a Christmas person. It's not that she has a rigid set of traditions that she's got to adhere to annually or the day is ruined, or that she goes around forcing jolliness and cheer on people who prefer to say 'bah, humbug'. She just _likes_ it all; the sparkly lights, the cheesy television specials, the socially acceptable reason to consume more gingerbread-based products than one human being really should. It's a nice time of year, even if she agrees that the Christmas creep is getting out of hand and the festivities shouldn't start up immediately after Halloween.

But hey, not everyone feels the same way. That's fine. When she's in college, Elena and her girlfriends spend ages picking out just the right gifts for each other and wrap them with elaborate ribbons (or drop five bucks at the mall to have a professional take care of it), but her boyfriend of two years is decidedly unenthusiastic about Christmas so she lets it go, gets him a gift card and feigns sincere appreciation for the bath salts and lotion sets he gets her for every gift-giving occasion, which also includes her birthday and Valentine's Day. Some people aren't good at picking out presents, and at least he changes up the scents. Mostly.

She dumps him after graduation when his lack of enthusiasm turns out to extend to the rest of their relationship. It's fine. She's young, free and has lots of adventures she wants to go on, and sticking with a guy she was mostly with out of habit won't help her with that. From then on, if she happens to be dating anyone when the holidays roll around, she'll make merry with them if they're interested, but she still doesn't force it.

The first Christmas she spends with Nathan Drake is mostly by accident. Technically, they don't spend Christmas together—he's gone by the actual day, probably off to find some new old ruins to climb or whatever it is he does when he's not around. But three days before it, she gets a text letting her know he's touched down at the airport and is she free?

She's not. And while she usually clears her schedule when he swings through her part of the country without notice (which is kind of embarrassing to admit, but she can't seem to help herself with him, so she just _won't_ admit it), tonight's the annual holiday gathering for her circle of friends. The date on which they meet up at the local bar that's decked out in the most lights and get blitzed on 'nog has been circled on her calendar for weeks. She breaks the news to him via text but offers for him to be her plus one, not expecting him to say yes.

He says yes.

"Is it okay that I'm just showing up like this?" he asks as they walk down the sidewalk toward the bar. "Should I have brought a gift or something?"

"It's fine, we're not doing a gift exchange." She smiles up at him, drinking in the sight of his face after a couple of weeks. God, it's unfair that he can stroll off an international flight and look this put-together, not that she's complaining. "It's casual."

"Cool." He grins. "So, uh...have you told them anything about me?"

"Well, they do know that you were supposed to be on my show," she says, raising an eyebrow. "Shame that it didn't work out, since we didn't find anything worthy of a story."

Nate lets out a little snort of laughter and she ducks her head, trying to hide the ridiculously goofy grin on her face. It tends to show up a lot when he's around. Of course, the thing she hasn't told her friends about him—aside from how good he is in a fight against treasure-hunting mercenaries and slimy Spanish zombie things, because that isn't a story she can tell anyone without making them think she's crazy—is what Nate is to her.

He's been dropping in to visit her between jobs for months now, catching a flight to see her when he has a reason to be in the area or because he gets the urge, but they've never said what they are. Nate's never called her his girlfriend and she's never asked if he's her boyfriend. On paper, it could be an extended fling, but it doesn't feel that way. It's more than casual, less than serious.

It's not something she wants to think about too hard. So she pushes thoughts that would complicate things away and enjoys the feel of Nate's arm around her shoulders as they enter the bar. The next few hours are fun ones; Nate's charming when he wants to be, and good with people, and he gets along with her friends. It helps that he buys one of the first rounds, but he seems to be genuinely enjoying himself despite being surrounded by strangers, and when she returns from a group trip to the ladies' room, he's in the middle of an animated discussion with Andrea's boyfriend Eric about Mayan temple ruins. This is good, as it distracts him enough that he doesn't even thinking of asking what took them so long in the bathroom, and she doesn't have to tell him that what occurred there was largely an interrogation on how long Elena has been dating him, how good he is in bed and if he has a brother.

They both have enough spiked eggnog that she's feeling silly and he's getting a little handsy in the cab back to her apartment, but neither of them are so drunk that certain festivities can't continue once they've got privacy.

"Tonight was fun," Nate says later, when they're in her bed and neither of them have a stitch of clothing on. Well, clothing that covers the important bits—he's still wearing a slightly-too-small Santa hat that Elena had stolen from some decoration at the bar and wedged on his head on a whim. It's cute enough that she doesn't pull it off to run her fingers through his hair. "I might have to try doing holiday stuff more if this is what it's like."

This is another newly learned fact about Nathan Drake: get a few drinks in him and he's even chattier than normal, even when they're in a compromising position that offers so many other, better options for what to do with his mouth. Still, Elena can't mind when it gives her a chance to see another side of him.

"Not a Christmas person?" She's only got so much patience, though, so she pushes at his shoulders and he obediently resumes kissing his way down her body.

"Eh. I'm not _not_ a Christmas person." He shrugs and speaks between long drags of his mouth over her skin that make her tingle. "A lot of years I'm busy working, though. Don't have any traditions." He pauses to spread her legs a little farther and mouths at the inside of her thigh. "This might be the first one in ages that I'm actually still in the country."

Part of her wants to ask if he's got family to visit, if there's a reason he acts so rootless during the most sentimental season of all, but it's hardly a sexy topic and he's mostly driving all capacity for meaningful conversation out of her brain. "Well, let me know if you want to stick around this year," she says. "I might have a spare stocking to stuff."

He laughs and moves even lower. "I'll think about it," he says, his breath coming hot against her skin, and a second later the feeling of his tongue between her legs ends any discussion that doesn't involve topics such as "oh god, yes" and "just like that."

Nate is gone by Christmas Eve morning, but he texts her from Germany at midnight on New Year's Eve, so she knows she's not forgotten. A couple months later the whole thing fizzles out anyway, though, so she doesn't give more thought to the topic of Nathan Drake and holidays until much later.

The second Christmas she spends with him is the first time they're together on the actual holiday. Even with her actual shrapnel wounds mostly healed and the stitches removed, Elena's still recovering in a lot of ways, still prone to running out of energy and getting achy fairly early in the evening or after too much physical activity. It's annoying as hell, but only time will fix it, so she tries to be patient.

Nate's presence helps. Aside from short period of time when he'd gone back to his place to straighten out the financial affairs he'd apparently left in a mess for three months before Nepal and she'd worked on getting her life back in order after the failed Lazarevic story and Jeff's death, and then a short-term job he'd flown out to meet with Sullivan for, he's been more or less living with her since they came back from Nepal, and neither of them have shown any inclination to change that.

Life with Nathan Drake doesn't always have to be adventurous, apparently, and they're camped out on the couch with her head in his lap when the channel-changing roulette lands on _A Charlie Brown Christmas_. The TV is mostly an excuse to sit close and cuddle, or at least it is for her, and she's only halfway paying attention for the first part of the classic holiday special; mostly she's enjoying the feel of his fingers running through her hair and giving her a gentle scalp massage. But then Nate starts to chuckle, and when she turns her head slightly upward she sees that he's not even looking at her.

"Seriously?" She's amused, not annoyed. "I didn't know you were a big Peanuts fan."

"What? It's cute." His fingertips dig a little harder and she has to resist the urge to let out a little moan. That comes later. His eyes keep flitting back and forth between her and the screen; he's really trying to keep up with the story, apparently.

"It is, but it's the same thing they've been airing for decades. You sound like you've never seen it before." Nate hesitates instead of replying. "You haven't?"

"No." He shrugs, only looking a little sheepish. "I've read the comic strips in the newspaper—in a bunch of languages—but I've never seen any of the cartoons."

Huh. She knows he spends less time watching TV and movies than the average guy her age, since his pop culture knowledge has proved spotty in certain areas during the time they've dated, but she didn't think it went back that far. Unless he's lying about his age and hiding it incredibly well, he should at least have had the chance to watch Charlie Brown as a kid, and it's not like he had treasure hunting to occupy his time back then. "Were your parents really strict about TV or something?"

"Something like that." She sees his eyes cloud over a little, and before she can apologize or change the subject, Nate moves along. Or brushes her off, more like. "Clearly, I was missing quality entertainment. I like the little bird."

"Woodstock." She shifts on the couch, rolling so that she's facing upward, and considers. She could let it go, not push, but they're supposed to be _really_ together this time, not just flinging. She should be able to ask him questions if they're going to be serious. "Did you have any Christmas traditions that didn't involve TV?"

Again, there's that look of slight distance, but he's still smiling faintly and he doesn't dump her head off his lap. "A few," he says. "Midnight Mass, trying _not_ to get forced into the children's choir. Nothing special. I used to like helping decorate the tree, though."

Elena can imagine that, even if she doesn't know enough else about his early life to imagine anything else—Nate as a kid, hanging up ornaments and tinsel. Maybe he even tried to climb the tree to put a star or angel on top.

"We could get a tree, if you want," she says. She threw her old fake tree out when she pared down the possessions she'd have to move from Colorado to Florida after graduation, but there are always more to buy, plus some real tree lots scattered around the city. Given her post-Nepal ennui, she hasn't done any holiday decorating around the apartment this year, but it's not too late.

"Yeah?" His face actually lights up then, like _he's_ the Christmas tree, and something in her chest twists at the sight. For Nate, she'll get whatever tree he likes, she decides. Even the gaudiest aluminum nightmare they manufacture, as long as he likes it and they can decorate together. It might be the first thing that's really _theirs_ , and the thought shouldn't make her feel so warm.

"Yeah. C'mere."

She reaches up to touch his face and guide it down to hers for a kiss. It must kill Nate's back to bend like that, because shortly thereafter he moves to get horizontal with her on the couch and they spend nearly an hour making out, Charlie Brown forgotten. But neither of them forget the tree, and the next day after she's done with work, they go out and buy a fake fir and a bunch of ornaments. At age thirty-two, he doesn't have to climb it to get to the top, but he is the tall one so he has the honor of placing the star there.

A few presents appear beneath it over the next two weeks, some for each other and some for friends and loved ones until it's time for them to be mailed or given in person. Nate doesn't even bother to wrap the box of Cuban cigars he gets for Sully.

Three days before Christmas, a very small box wrapped in Nate's haphazard way—as far as she can tell, he crumples a bunch of wrapping paper around a package, holds it together with scotch tape and calls it done—appears with her name on the tag, and Elena has to stop and stare at it for a long time. She's really glad that Nate is out at the library when she sees it, because he wouldn't be able to help noticing.

It can't be a ring. It _shouldn't_ be. They've only been together again for a couple of months, and a relationship doesn't get to count credit from past iterations. They're still learning how to be a couple; he's still learning to say 'I love you' without that look on his face that says he still can't completely believe she'll say it back, and she's learning to trust that he's really going to stick around and not run off after the next treasure that catches his attention. It's too soon for a ring, and her heart shouldn't start beating a mile a minute at the very notion.

It isn't a ring. On Christmas morning, it turns out to be a necklace he probably stole or bought through a shady dealer. It's beautiful, and Nate's incredibly pleased when she likes it. She can't bring herself to tease him about wrapping it up in a box that would fit another piece of jewelry, one that would go on her left hand. It's too soon to even be joking about that sort of thing, and he'd had such issues with commitment before, wouldn't the very idea of _that_ permanent a tie freak him out?

Apparently not, because by the end of February Nate brings her a ring and a question. The wedding is beautiful.

The following Christmas doesn't go as well. They're on shaky ground as Nate descends into obsession, and by spring she's in Yemen, unpacking her things in a life that's become unexpectedly solo and wondering how things fell apart so fast. By late fall, Nate's back, and they're trying to figure out how to un-shatter their marriage. Sully spends that Christmas with them, but for the next two they're on their own, getting more comfortable and falling into a routine that becomes a rut until the brother she never knew he had comes back into their lives. Over time Nate is more willing to talk about the holidays of his youth—she understands now that it wasn't his parents but the orphanage that made his traditions a little different. That and the life the brothers Drake led after they left the place.

Nate has taken over the decorating this year, and she's lolling about on the couch with a mug of hot cider, enjoying the view of his ass up on the ladder as he hangs a garland around the doorway to their front hall. He'd also been the one to hang the interior and exterior lights, and pull the tree out from storage before she'd even had the chance to suggest it.

"You don't have to go all out," she says when he finishes with the garland and eyes another box of decorations sitting on the floor. "Your brother and Sully aren't going to judge if the house isn't so full of holiday spirit it starts oozing out the windows."

He shoots her a Look but grins as he hops down and heads her way, apparently deciding that flopping down on the couch beside her is more appealing than continuing to play Martha Stewart, at least for now. "Sure, but it's our first time hosting a family Christmas," he says, making an unsuccessful grab for her cider. He only pouts a little. "It's fun this way. And Sam's got a bunch of Christmases to catch up on anyway."

"I'm not sure decorating every room is the way to do that, Nate. At least leave the guest bathroom alone." Still, she can't help but laugh. "Did you guys ever do anything for the holidays back in the day?"

She still can't help but like the way his expression turns thoughtful instead of guarded at the question. It's a selfish feeling, considering the many reasons he'd had to not want to think about his past, but since Libertalia, that part of him has been different. Opening up isn't always easy for him, but it comes easier to him now, and it's one of several reasons that she's long since been able to forgive Sam for his part in prompting Nate's deception. How can she hold a grudge when it healed such an old, deep wound of Nate's in the end?

"Neither of us had any money when we were both in the orphanage, but after he left, he'd bring me books and little things when he snuck back to visit," he says. "Little things. And, uh…after we ran away, a lot of times we'd go stealing. The holidays are a great time for theft, you know."

"You're kidding." She bursts out laughing. "Please tell me you weren't a pair of reverse Santa Clauses."

"No, of course not! I mean yeah, there was some shoplifting when we were younger," he says. "But usually it was paid jobs. We had to infiltrate a couple of galas. Once Sam spent an hour charming the host's wife while I was in the back area of the mansion trying to avoid having his guard dogs chew my leg off trying to find the merchandise we were there for."

"Sounds exciting." She sets the cider down on the coffee table and edges a little closer so she can snuggle up against him. "I hope he doesn't make a habit of that, because it's going to be a lot harder to charm the host's wife this year."

"Don't worry, he knows I have dibs on the wife-charming." He sneaks his arm around her shoulders. "And I hid his gifts really well, so there won't be any theft either."

"That's good, because the pool of suspects would be really limited." Elena leans her head against his shoulder and smiles. "You guys can make your own holiday traditions now. _Our_ traditions, because I think we're probably going to be the permanent hosts."

With Nate's brother still too full of wanderlust and the yearning for adventure to create a permanent address, and Sully apparently never going to retire? Yeah, even with their company and their own travel, she and Nate are going to be home base. It's wonderful.

"I know." His hand drifts to her lower belly, and his smile shifts into one only she has seen, tender and sort of shy. "Next year we're going to have to re-think the decorations, elevate things so he or she doesn't end up with a mouthful of tinsel."

"Depending how mobile they are, we might have another year before we have to worry," she says. "Though with your genes, I wouldn't be surprised if this kid scales the Christmas tree before they take their first steps."

"Hey, that's not...all right, it's possible." He laughs and holds her tighter. "Have I ever told you how glad I am that I picked you to con years ago?"

"Not lately." Her heart feels full then, like it might burst but that would only make it better. "But it goes both ways, because I'm glad I got conned."

Even if her show had never been able to produce that episode on the groundbreaking discovery of Sir Francis Drake's coffin. Even if the arrival of a thief and treasure hunter who really just wanted to have adventures had led to more mayhem and heartbreak than she ever could have imagined. The hurt had been worth it. It still is.

She lifts her chin just as he tilts his head down, and the kiss is long and in no particular hurry. When it ends, Nate rests his head against hers as they look at the fruits of their (his) labor, Christmas tree sparkling in the corner.

"Happy holidays, hon."

She smiles and wraps her arm around his midsection. There's still work to be done before Sam and Sully arrive, but she can take this moment to just feel content and happy and stupidly sentimental with the man she loves. The season does only come around once a year, after all.

"Merry Christmas, cowboy."

**Author's Note:**

> My one regret for this story is that a friend's suggestion that someone cry "good grief!" when the other one's pants came off during the Peanuts section didn't really fit.


End file.
